


The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

by hazelNuts



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas, M/M, Mistletoe, Snowball Fight, implied erica/boyd, implied isaac/scott/allison, oblivious!Stiles, pining!Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 05:42:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2761742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelNuts/pseuds/hazelNuts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘Oh my god, what if you’re possessed?’<br/>Derek didn’t even respond to that.<br/>‘I’m calling Lydia. She might have an idea.’ Quickly dialling his friends number, he kept an eye on the werewolf.<br/>‘Hey, Lyds. So, I have a question.’<br/>‘Just spit it out, Stiles.’ She was already starting to sound bored. He should probably get to the point.<br/>‘I think Derek is possessed by an old-lady-spirit, because I’m at the loft and he’s knitting. Socks.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bleep0bleep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleep0bleep/gifts).



> This one is for the lovely [bleep0bleep](http://bleep0bleep.tumblr.com/). Stay awesome!  
> I really hope you like it.
> 
> I'm really bad at tagging. If you think I forgot any, please let me know in the comments.

Something was wrong with Derek. Stiles was sure of it. There was no other explanation for what was happening.

‘Stiles, stop it,’ Derek said as he swatted his hand away.

‘I was checking if you had a fever. I mean, even wolfs can get sick. Right?’

‘Yes, we can. But I’m not sick.’ Derek went back to what he was doing.

‘Oh my god, what if you’re possessed?’

Derek didn’t even respond to that.

‘I’m calling Lydia. She might have an idea.’ Quickly dialling his friends number, he kept an eye on the werewolf.

‘Hey, Lyds. So, I have a question.’

‘Just spit it out, Stiles.’ She was already starting to sound bored. He should probably get to the point.

‘I think Derek is possessed by an old-lady-spirit, because I’m at the loft and he’s knitting. Socks.’

There was a sigh from the other side.

‘I can feel you rolling your eyes at me.’

‘You interrupted my manicure, because Derek took up crafts. Of course, I’m rolling my eyes.’ And she hung up.

‘Great. Well, looks like it’s just me who concerned about you, buddy.’

Derek’s only response was to keep knitting. This was all wrong. Derek was never this good at ignoring him.

‘I’m getting something to drink. Would you like something? A glass of sherry perhaps?’ he said with a smirk. He ducked around the corner just in time to see a ball of yarn fly past his head.

~

After a couple weeks, Stiles decided that maybe Derek really had simply taken up knitting. It was still weird, but a normal weird.

In fact, nothing much happened until early December, when something awesome weird happened. It had snowed most of the night and morning, and Beacon Hills looked like the inside of a snow globe.

Stiles was walking from his Jeep to the entrance of the loft, doing his best not to slip on any patches of ice. Walking could be tricky for him sometimes, walking on snow was a health hazard.

Rounding the corner, he felt a gloved hand clamp over his mouth and an arm around his waist pulled him back.

‘Stay quiet,’ Derek hissed in his ear. Stiles nodded and the werewolf loosened his grip.

Stiles braced himself for the worst. Was it a winter goddess? A yeti? Oh god, were ice-dragons a thing? Before he could ask, though, Derek indicated that he should watch and wait.

Stiles peeked around the corner.

What he saw was Erica and Boyd hiding behind Derek’s soccer-mom car and Scott and Isaac trying to hide behind their motorcycles. Idiots. Snowballs were flying back and forth between the two teams. But ones in a while, one of them was hit by one that didn’t come from either. Stiles looked around, nothing. He followed the trajectory of one of the projectiles and caught a red flash from the corner of his eyes.

He turned back to Derek and pointed upwards. The other guy looked a little puzzled. Stiles sighed.

‘Lydia and Allison,’ he mouthed.

That got a grin and Derek started leading him towards the stairs to the roof.

When they reached the top, Stiles peeked over the edge. Both Lydia and Allison were completely focussed on the pack members on the ground. Stiles gathered some snow, aimed, and hit Lydia square in the back. With a quick roll through the snow  he avoided Allison’s return fire.

Derek threw one at the huntress, hitting her in the arm. After that it was all out war on the rooftop. Stiles and Derek were both hiding behind ventilation units. And Lydia and Allison were working hard to keep up their rapid fire, with Lydia making the snowballs and Allison throwing them.

Stiles figured if they rushed them, perhaps one of them would make it. He signed his plan to Derek and they were off.

The girls had to stop making snowballs and resorted to simply throwing handfuls of snow.

Stiles tackled Lydia to the ground. There was no way he would beat Allison, but with Lydia there was a chance he might win.

He had a small window of opportunity when Lydia hit the snow. It was lost however, when Lydia slipped off one her gloves and shoved snow down the front of Stiles’ pants. His grip loosened and suddenly he was lying face down, with the girl on his back putting hands full of snow in shirt and jeans.

‘I surrender!’ he yelled.

‘I thought you always wanted me to sit on you?’ Lydia hissed in his ear.

‘Lyds, you’re a goddess, but my objective has changed.’

Lydia got off his back and helped him up. ‘I know, just making sure you did, too.’

Derek wasn’t much better off. Allison kept jumping him and shoving snow down his coat. He couldn’t get a hold of her, so he tried tackling the girl. That was a horrible mistake, because the moment he was down, Allison kicked snow in his face. Disoriented, Derek couldn’t find the huntress and didn’t see her when she jumped on top of him, pinning him to the ground.

Allison whispered something in his ear, to which Derek nodded. With a triumphant cry, she sprang up and ran to high-five Lydia.

There was loud cheering and clapping from the direction of the stairs. The others had come up to see what the commotion on the roof was about and had apparently placed bets, because all the boys were handing over their money to Erica.

~

By the time they got inside the loft, Stiles was shaking. His clothes were soaking and cold. Lydia had wrapped her arms around him, but it wasn’t helping much.

‘Come on,’ Derek said, ‘You can borrow something of mine.’

Ten minutes later he was sitting on the couch, in dry, warm clothes, but still freezing.

‘You’re welcome,’ Lydia said with a smirk.

‘For what? Nearly getting my dick frozen off?’

‘Just wait.’

Stiles didn’t have to wait long. Derek and Allison were making hot chocolate and once they’d handed out the mugs they sat down. Allison squished herself between Scott and Isaac, and Derek sat next to Stiles.

‘Are you still cold?’ the man asked him.

‘Are my chattering teeth not giving it away?’

Derek rolled his eyes, but pulled him into his side. Stiles went completely still for a second and then relaxed into it. Derek really was very warm.

Sipping his cocoa he glanced at Lydia, who winked at him.

~

Stiles must have fallen asleep, because when he opened his eyes it was dark. He was still lying half on top of Derek, who had turned out to be a very warm and comfortable pillow.

‘What time is it?’

‘It’s a little after ten.’

‘Oh my god,’ Stiles said as he shot up. ‘My dad is going to freak.’

‘No, he’s not,’ Derek assured him, tucking him back into his side. ‘I called him an hour ago. He said he’d rather you stay here tonight. There have already been two accidents, caused by black ice.’

‘Oh. You don’t mind?’

Derek shook his head.

~

After that, Stiles staying late and sleeping on Derek’s couch became a regular thing. Especially when Derek decided to decorate the loft.

‘Okay, starting to rethink my possession theory, because I did not know you liked Christmas this much,’ Stiles said. They were hanging coloured lights all over the apartment. In just a couple of days, the loft had already started to look like Christmas had exploded in it. There were lights, and wreaths and even Christmas pillows, everywhere. Derek had bought cans of spray-on snow for the inside of the windows.

‘I used to love Christmas.’

Stiles didn’t need to ask any further. He knew what Derek meant. Before Derek’s life had gone to hell.

‘Well, I’m glad you’re loving it again,’ was all he said.

Derek smiled at him, making Stiles a little weak in the knees. That had started happening a lot more, as well. Derek smiling and laughing. Derek was even making _jokes_. Yeah, the guy had to be possessed.

‘You do realize we’re still missing a tree, right?’

‘I know. I figured we could cut one down in the preserve.’

Stiles nodded. ‘Excellent idea. I’ll call my dad. Make sure there’s no one on patrol when we try to liberate one of the pines.’

~

‘Sometimes I forget my dad can be an asshole.’

It was around ten pm and they were dragging a pine tree to the car. Derek didn’t comment, he simply kept walking.

‘This is totally revenge for telling Parrish about his donut-limit. _Wait for dark_ , he said, _no one will be patrolling there, then_. You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if he send someone, just to annoy us,’ Stiles continued his grumbling.

Derek continued to ignore it.

They fastened the tree on top of the Toyota and got back inside the car. Derek turned up the heat and Stiles held his hands in front of it, gratefully.

The drive back was filled with Christmas music. Derek had tried to turn off the radio on their drive over, but Stiles had persisted in turning it back on, and turning up the volume every single time.

By the time they’d set up the tree, Stiles was aching everywhere. He wasn’t used to this kind of labour. He crashed face down on the couch.

‘We still have to decorate it,’ Derek said, hauling him back up.

‘Noooo,’ Stiles moaned. ‘I can no longer feel my arms. And I still don’t have all the feeling in my toes and fingers back.’

When he turned to face him, the man was standing in front of the tree, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. It was little ridiculous actually. Derek Hale, the grumpiest Sourwolf on the continental US was standing in front of a Christmas tree like a petulant child. Pouting, because he didn’t get to decorate it tonight.

‘Let’s just do it tomorrow, okay.’

‘Fine,’ Derek conceded. ‘But I’m waking you early tomorrow morning.’

Well, that was Stiles’ Saturday-sleep-in shot to hell. But spending the morning with Derek, decorating a Christmas tree, wasn’t such a bad trade..

‘Are you going to be warm enough?’

The nights had kept getting colder and the living room of the loft wasn’t the toastiest place to be right now.

‘Just give me an extra blanket, I’ll be fine.’

~

Stiles wasn’t fine. Two hours later and he was curled up in a little ball on the couch. He was pretty sure that Derek was asleep and didn’t want to wake him to ask for an extra blanket or sweater. But freezing to death on the couch wasn’t really an option either. Just when he’d decided to look for extra blankets himself, the ones currently covering him were pulled off.

‘You’re teeth chattering is keeping me awake.’

‘Wow, you’re concern for my well-being is touching, big guy.’

‘Just come to bed with me okay.’

Stiles’ brain ground to a halt. Him and Derek in one bed. ‘What?’ he managed to croak.

Derek heaved a put upon sigh and scooped Stiles, blankets and all, off the couch, carrying him to the bedroom, bridal style.

Stile really wanted to protest. He really did. Except, not? Derek was warm and he smelled very nice.

Derek dumped him on the bed, on what appeared to be his side, because it was warm when Stiles crawled under the blankets.

‘Thanks.’

Stiles tried his best to get to sleep, but despite the fact that the bedroom was a lot warmer, he was still freezing. He refused to curl up against Derek. Sharing a bed with the guy you had a secret boner for was one thing, cuddling up to him in that bed was a whole other level.

Derek didn’t appear to think so, because after only a few minutes he pulled Stiles into his chest. He wrapped his arms around the boy, slowly rubbing his hands over his back, trying to get him warm.

Stiles was asleep in ten minutes.

~

The next morning, Stiles woke up with his face in Derek’s chest and his hands on Derek’s back. He inhaled deeply and burrowed a little deeper into the warmth. In answer, Derek pulled him a little closer. With his hands. That were on Stiles’ ass.

 _Don’t, please don’t, please don’t,_ he chanted in his head, but it was too late. He was hard against Derek’s hip. _Fuck._

He tried to pull back a little, but only got pulled closer, still. Sighing, he let himself relax a little. Derek relaxed, too. And very carefully, Stiles started to peel the man’s fingers off his butt. When he got them all off, he quickly rolled out of the embrace and onto the floor. He heard a little huff and quickly looked over the edge of the mattress to check if Derek was still asleep. All that had happened was Derek rolling into the spot Stiles had just abandoned. He quickly walked out of the room, before he jumped back into the bed.

He took a shower and pulled on his clothes. The sweater was technically Derek’s. Stiles had commandeered it, because when was the guy ever going to wear a sweater with thumbholes?

He made breakfast for the both of them and decided to check if Derek was awake.

‘Get dressed, Sourwolf,’ he said, throwing a Henley at the guy’s stupidly cute, frowning face. ‘We have a tree to decorate. Also, I made pancakes.’

~

Pack Christmas was on Christmas Eve. Everyone had gathered in the loft. Gifts were exchanged. Too much food was eaten. And everyone was having a good time.

Stiles had ordered everyone to wear Christmas sweaters. This meant that only Stiles, Scott and Derek wore one. Allison and Lydia technically did wear them, but they were perfectly fitted and probably from some weird wool-blend. Isaac had put on a scarf with snow crystals on them and Boyd had agreed to wear a Santa hat. Erica had ignored the request completely.

After all the gifts were exchanged, Derek stood up.

‘Uhm, okay I have one more gift for each of you,’ he said a little awkwardly. ‘It was kind of a Hale-tradition and we’ve really become a pack over the last year. So, I made you guys these.’

Stiles already knew what was in the little packages Derek started to hand out. It was the socks the guy had been knitting over the past couple of months. He immediately felt like crap for making fun of him for it.

He threw himself on Derek, before even opening his present. He hugged the wolf tightly to his chest. Derek hugged him back just as tightly.

‘Thank you,’ Stiles whispered in his ear. He could feel himself choking up a little and buried his face in Derek’s neck to avoid spilling any tears. When he pulled back, the tips of Derek’s ears were red and he was looking through his lashes at Stiles, a small smile on his face.

The hug had probably lasted a little longer than was considered normal, but no one commented on it.

~

The pack had long gone home. Stiles and Derek were cleaning up the last of the mess.

‘I’m going to take out these,’ Derek said, holding up two trash bags.

Once he was gone, Stiles quickly set down the dishes he’d been drying. He dragged a chair under one of the strings of light.

When Derek came back, Stiles was back at the counter, putting away the last glass.

‘Was that the last of it?’ Derek asked him.

‘Yep,’ Stiles answered him. His heart was hammering in his chest and his mouth was going dry. Derek was giving him a strange look.

‘Are you okay, Stiles?’

‘Peachy.’

He put down the towel he’d been balling up. Stepping up to Derek, he grabbed his hands and pulled him to where the chair had stood only a couple minutes earlier.

Derek went willingly, but his eyes were roaming over Stiles’ face, searching for a clue to what was going on.

Stiles let go of Derek’s hands and cupped the man’s face. Derek’s eyes went wide, but a small smile was curving his mouth. Stiles looked up for a second. Derek followed his gaze, smile growing when he saw the little sprig of mistletoe Stiles had hung there earlier.

They moved at the same time. Arms wrapping around each other, to pull the other as close as possible. The kiss was warm and tender. Stiles had always imagined it would be a little desperate, but there was not a hint of desperation in it, more like the opposite. He’d never felt so calm or at home. Derek’s hands were under his shirt and his own were tangled in Derek’s hair.

When they had to pull back to catch their breath, Stiles grinned at Derek, who smiled back just as wide.

‘Happy birthday, Derek,’ Stiles said, dragging his fingers through Derek’s hair. ‘And Merry Christmas.’

‘Merry Christmas, Stiles.’

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also on [tumblr](http://fandom-madnessess.tumblr.com/).


End file.
